


all these feelings wrapped in parcel

by ellipsesarefun



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Emotional Numbness?, Introspection, Letter, M/M, Misunderstanding, Otabek Tries to be Shakespeare, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 14:17:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11232762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsesarefun/pseuds/ellipsesarefun
Summary: In which there was a misunderstanding and Otabek tries to be poetic.





	all these feelings wrapped in parcel

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when I’m at my worst and was reading the last half of Philippa Gregory’s The Lady of Rivers (btw, it’s a good book, read her work, I swear, it’s awe-inspiring writing style). But I wrote a thing again (and it’s unbeta’d because I got too excited) and it’s inspired by victuri-oh-nice’s “I Moved Further Than I Thought I Could”. Alternative (original) ending below.

_~~Dearest Yura.~~ _

_~~Dear Yura.~~ _

_~~Dear~~ Yuri._

_I left this in your pants pocket for you to read. An apology and an explanation. I hope you find this before you do your laundry and I hope you read this before you burn this letter._

His heartbeat thrums in sync with the thunderstorm looming in the skies. Otabek sat still, ears deaf to the lull of the air conditioner and mind heavy with words he doesn’t speak. He feels his thumb listlessly smooth the crease on his blue sweater, adding a silent note to the background noise around around him. The landscape is as gloomy as his own consciousness. A sigh came and he shifted to his ornate table where his now cold cup of tea sat still. He reached out to his phone beside it and opened his screen. No messages.

_Your hair looks nice today. ~~I’ve always admired your hair and you asking me to braid it is Venus begging for a thousand kisses from a mere, insignificant mortal.~~ But it’s not just your hair that looks nice, ~~and I can’t find a better metaphor for it.~~ There are other things about you that I’ve admired about. Your cusses are endearing. Your lips never run out words to utter, for they’re always about the mundane things about your day, about Viktor and Katsuki, about Mila and her sisterly love, about Georgi and his love mishaps, and of Yakov and Lilia for their parental nature over you. Every meticulous detail of the day, of cats of your grandpa of your pirozshki you always breath them with passion ~~and love~~. Your animal prints, ~~while overbearing~~ , lights a smile on your face. your music and ballet is exquisite and your performance on ice still takes my breathe away. Even on a boring day like this, my eyes never tire from this wonder that is you. ~~God, I’m so cheesy. You must hate me for this.~~_

He stands, stretching his muscles from hours of sitting and he saunters off to his bedoroom to change into a simple t-shirt from the laundry basket and yesterday’s pants. He grabs his black leather jacket hanging by the door and puts it on, the scent of last week’s cologne still perforate through his nose.

Hm. Still smells good.

His gaze wanders down to the floor, where leather black gloves, lay. A piece of clothing that _he_ used to borrow every time, along with the motorbike that _he_ uses occasionally in the days where _he’s_ out somewhere with someone that’s not him. That’s never him. Otabek shakes his head and turns away from the cluttered mess filled with remnants he couldn’t bring himself to burn.

_We have (had) five great years... Five years of friendship... Oh, Yura.. there’s just so much to say to you... so much time I’ve had with you, only spent watching you fall in love with another man. ~~And it tears my heart apart every single hour you spend it with him, and not me, but you don’t need to know that.~~ I was just person at the front row seat of my own heartache ~~, and I probably am using too much words that have heart but who cares~~ First meeting at the grocery store to coffee dates that you blush and gush about... to doing the things we did together, you’re now doing it with him... And then.. Fawning over each other just as I fawn over you. Our time together shortened and it just... ~~I really don’t know what to say here. I’m nothing but a fool who tries to be Shakespeare...~~_

_I’m sorry._

_~~I love you.~~ _

_I’m truly, sincerely, sorry._

He sees his horrendous reflection in his bathroom. Eyebags are dark and aparent, with dull brown irises and a lifeless mien glaring back at him. Another languid sigh came as he drags his hand up to rake his messy hair. He casts a look at the mirror and decides that he looks like a passable zombie before grabbing his keys and umbrella. He pauses at the open doorway to check his phone only to turn it off and shove it back into his pocket. Otabek vehemently presses the lock on the door, pauses again for a momentary thought, and, gently this time, pulls the door to a quiet shut. He exhales a large puff of air, easing the tension of his muscles.

It doesn’t lift his spirits.

He looks at the sky, eyeing the light brush strokes over grey with a flash of lightning in the distance.

No. Nothing lifts his spirit at all.

_There’s nothing to justify for the way I behaved. Nothing at all. You were just kissing him ~~naked and sweaty with lust~~ and I just bolted from your room with tears in my eyes ~~actually, it was more of me standing there, in disbelief at the sight of you kissing another man that I hadn’t realized the tear tracks on my face until I found you staring at me, at my waterworks that I ran.~~ I avoided you for the last three days during my stay and left abruptly without a good bye. Dramatic, right? You were having the time of your life and I ruined it for you by being a selfish, passive-aggressive asshole/shithead/whatever fits. I knew you were seeing someone and yet I just... I couldn’t stand it anymore. Still, no excuse for my behavior... because that’s no way to react like that to the one I love._

_You probably hate me even more right now.._

_You should hate me. You have every right because I was too late to be someone who would hold your hand at every second you spare, kiss you anywhere and everywhere at anytime and every time you’re in my arms, whisper sweet nothings in your ear when the insomnia kicks in and we’re lying in bed in the darkness of our fears and nightmares._

_But I still love you. I still do. These are my feelings and my feelings are my responsibility to hone it and be honest with you this time. Feelings aside, we’re friends. And as a friend, I failed you..._

_But whatever response ~~or lack of~~ you give, I accept. No matter what happens, I’ll always care for you. There’s always a cup of coffee waiting for you right here in this tiny apartment._

_~~I’ll still love you.~~ _

_\- O. Altin._

He walks and walks and walks. Past the nameless people who have important things to do in their lives, past the pedestrian lane before the cars honk in vexation, to the an open cafe that rests at the corner of the street. He buys his usual beverage and takes a seat at the very corner by the window, where he witnesses heaven’s water still drenches the earth with its chaos. Otabek looks down at his still warm cup of latte, tries to draw his shapeless face in this tiny black ocean. 

He counts his breath.

One.

Two.

Three.

It’s baseless magic number that doesn’t have any sense of magic. He gives up and blinks up at the crowd, a brilliant cluster of emotions and hand gestures and it’s.. nice. Calm. And he wonders and wonders and wonders...

What was he wondering about again? _What should he be wondering about?_ It’s numb. His chest is numb. There’s a pang of realization in his head that he’s an empty shell of a robot for the past couple of days.. weeks.. and he doesn’t have any semblance of a high or a low that he’s digging through the cluster of his own mind, with nothing but the darkness that pulls him further and further and further into a null void.

And then a buzz was felt in his pocket. Otabek stills, finding his pace of breath once again. His heartbeat pulses in allegretto and slowly, he slides his hand down, feeling the cold, slightly damp object before pulling it out, now staring at his astonished expression on the sleek black screen.

One.

Two.

Three.

At the third beat, another buzz came and the light poured through.

Was this the sign he has been waiting for?

**Author's Note:**

> A lone figure sits in the rain, umbrella abandoned by his side. His clothes are drenched with heaven's ocean but he pays no heed, only counting his breathes and zoning at the blurry vision before him. The hours must have passed by for the downpour began to gradually wane and a silver lining in the sky appeared. There was a buzz in his pocket and he took out his phone, turning it on to his lock screen. There was a message. He swiped it open, eyes running on the passage. And as he read, the rain dissipated into a drizzle and the grey clouds parted for the sun to shine.The scent of petrichor is in the air, soothing the wrinkles on his face and the bags under his eyes. His lip twitched and held the phone to his chest. Otabek took his umbrella and left the park, heart as light as a feather.
> 
> Perhaps he should grab a cup of coffee on the way.


End file.
